


This dance we do

by Queenofthebees



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Post-Canon, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-26 06:43:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17740850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthebees/pseuds/Queenofthebees
Summary: It took a brief second for him to go from frowning again to another wide-eyed stare as he met her eyes. "Me?""We've been dancing around each other for a while now," she stated. The chair creaked slightly as she leaned back to observe him. "Perhaps we should dance together instead, at our wedding."





	This dance we do

 

Perhaps it was telling that Sansa had expected things to remain rather pessimistic after the war. Ever since Joffrey had cut off her father's head, she had started to accept that things may not always be great and war was certainly not likely to bring joy, even after victory.

Food was still short, people were still being buried and the rebuilding of Winterfell was taking more time and money than originally thought, making the people grumble. But Sansa had expected such things to happen and had introduced strict rations for the Northern Kingdom while they waited for the new harvest to yield and she charmed the workers with graceful words and sweet smiles, a lesson from Cersei that she had found rather useful in getting some of the more impressionable men to do as she wanted.

But the war had brought some good too.

Ever since it had been won, since the North had won its independence too, it had been like a weight had been lifted from Jon's shoulder. He smiled a little more, she noticed and that was enough to make her happy in return.

There were nights they would spend sat in his solar, opposite ends of his desk as they worked through their respective letters. He as King in the North and she as Lady of Winterfell. Occasionally, she would glance up at him to find him looking at her too, his eyes soft as they fixed on a curl of her hair that tumbled across her shoulder. Sometimes, it was just a moment of his thoughts and he would return to reading his letters.

Sometimes, the silence would be broken by his low voice asking her advice, something that never failed to make her heart swell with pride. The trust he placed in her gave her the most wonderful feeling, her stomach often fluttering when he would address her and watch her with those soft grey eyes, when he would allow his lips to curl upwards into a small, sweet smile when she answered, as though he were truly grateful for her input.

While they conducted their daily duties, they would often walk past each other in the courtyard, brush past each other on the steps or in the corridors. And Jon would bow his head respectively, and Sansa would smile at him without a second thought, like a instinctual reaction. Sometimes, his hand would linger for a second on her hip as he steadied her when she stepped too far back and Sansa would giggle like a young maid at the feel of his hands.

It took longer for her to recognise the signs. The flushing cheeks, the inability to stop smiling around him or to stop her eyes roaming over him, the fluttering in her stomach. She was in love with Jon.

As her cousin, it wasn't so scandalous, she reasoned. And she was sure from the way that Jon looked at her that he loved her too. But Jon would never instigate something, it would have to come from her.

So, when they agreed their next night for their meeting, she bathed in her favourite rose oil and left her hair down. She made sure to leave the laces at her front untied at the top, allowing a small peak of her clevage and  she finished by wrapping his cloak around her shoulders. She had heard that men liked to see their ladies in their clothes, a soft affirmation that she was his.

If the way Jon stopped short upon entering, staring at her with wide eyes and a bobbing throat, she would say the advice had been correct.

"I have wine," she greeted him, turning towards the table where the servant had left the beverage.

"Are we celebrating something?" he asked, finally moving towards the desk with slow, confused steps while she busied herself pouring the wine.

"A proposal," she murmured, spinning back to face him with a full cup. Jon's brow furrowed, his shoulders slumped.

"Who asked for your hand?" he asked softly, tinged with sad curiosity.

"Well, he hasn't asked yet," she said simply as she sat. "But now is a great a time as any."

It took a brief second for him to go from frowning again to another wide-eyed stare as he met her eyes. "Me?"

"We've been dancing around each other for a while now," she stated. The chair creaked slightly as she leaned back to observe him. "Perhaps we should dance together instead, at our wedding."

"I would likely step on your toes," he quipped, but his grin told her that he was sold on the idea all the same.

"Then you can rub them better," she teased, nudging him with one slippered foot for good measure.To her surprise, Jon kneeled at her feet with a grin.

 "Whatever my Queen commands, I will obey."


End file.
